Off the Record
by owlcroft
Summary: Wrapping up some loose ends after "Goin' Nowhere Fast".


A/N: Another response to the "Goin' Nowhere Fast" challenge. Many thanks to L.M. for making my writing better!

OFF THE RECORD

by

Owlcroft

"You sure Thursday's okay, Sarah?" Hardcastle finished unpacking the items from the hardware store and carefully folded up the paper bag and placed it in the proper drawer. "I mean, Carlton said Friday'd be fine with him."

The petite gray-haired woman shook her head decisively. "Thursday is a good day for me and I'd rather get it over and done. I have too much to do around this place," she waved her hand around the kitchen, "to spend time giving statements to the police. Besides, _I'm _not the one who burst through a window. You should be asking Mark how _he's _doing.

The retired judge sniffed, then looked around. "Ah, he's all right. Where is he, anyway?"

"In the den," Sarah replied. "Supposedly dusting and vacuuming. I should check on him, I suppose," she said thoughtfully.

The wall phone extension broke the brief silence that followed and Hardcastle reached for it, then paused when there was no second ring. "He must've got it in the den. Probably for me." He turned toward the door to the hallway, then added, "I'll make sure he's doing his chores, Sarah."

He could hear McCormick speaking as he put out a hand to open the door to the den. What he said made the judge curious; he paused and listened.

"Oh, yeah. Judge Benson, sure, I remember. Um, Hardcase isn't here right now. I mean, Judge Hardcastle isn't here."

There was a silence and the judge wrestled with his conscience. Eavesdropping was _not _a polite thing to do, but, for some inchoate reason, he wanted to hear how this particular conversation came out.

"Really?" said a surprised McCormick voice. "It made the news in Vegas? Yeah, well, I guess it would, huh?"

Another silence fell, somewhat longer than the previous one. Hardcastle shifted slightly to lean against the doorframe.

"Well, that's . . . um, are you sure? I mean, it's not that I don't appreciate it, but does Hardcastle agree with that? See, 'cause he's such a real law-and-order type – not that you _aren't_, Your Honor."

The judge grinned at that and folded his arms across his chest. Another longer pause then --

"If you're sure about it. I mean, thank you, Judge Benson. It's really nice of you and I, uh . . . I promise it won't happen again. At least not in _your _jurisdiction," finished Mark with a grin in his voice. "You bet. I will and hey – thanks again, Your Honor! 'Bye."

Hardcastle pushed off the doorframe and into the opening as McCormick was cradling the phone.

"That for me?" he asked blandly.

McCormick looked up at him with a bemused expression. "Yeah, it was Judge Benson. In Las Vegas, y'know."

"Yeah, I happen to know where he presides." The judge allowed himself a small smile. "He leave a message for me?"

Mark looked down at the phone and then back at the man seating himself behind the desk. His expression had changed only slightly and now included a trace of skepticism as well as the former puzzlement. "Well, yeah, he did. He said to tell you I don't need to bother appearing before him for the traffic violations. He read about Beal and us and figures that qualifies as community service. How about that?" He dropped into the wing chair at the end of the desk. "Can he do that?"

"Sure. He's the presiding judge." Hardcastle inspected the younger man. "What's the matter with you? How come you're not doing cartwheels or yapping about getting off a traffic beef?"

"Well, I'm still figuring out this sidekick business." Mark assumed an air of nonchalance. "But I thought you said you don't pull strings."

The judge examined the receipt from the hardware store closely. "I don't."

"Uh-huh. But it's okay for Judge Benson to give a yank or two. C'mon, Hardcase, did you call him?" Mark lounged deeper into the chair and smiled knowingly.

"Look, this is Benson's department. He's the judge in charge and it's totally up to him how to dispose of the case. It was out of my hands and if I tried to influence a sitting judge, that would be tampering. Besides," Hardacstle huffed, "what makes you think I'd do you any favors after you go breaking the law like that?"

McCormick raised his eyebrows, still smiling. "I notice I'm not getting a definite yes or no here," he said in an insinuating manner. "You're doing some mighty fine tap-dancing there, Judge."

Hardcastle waved a paw at him dismissively. "Nah, I'm more of a foxtrot kinda guy."

_finis_


End file.
